Dark Side: the Companion
by Katrina Marie Lupin
Summary: One-shots and deleted scenes from the Dark Side story. Smut and spoilers. A/N at top tells context of scene.
1. Tricksy

Pointless smut. Takes place sometime during Chapter 6, during the fourth watch the night before Doyle reports to his new duty station.

xxxxx

The Captain and First Mate were on patrol. Second Mate had the watch, and was stationed on the bridge. The Captain preferred doing these routine checks at night, when most of the crew was sleeping and he had less people to worry about. In all honesty, it still bugged him that there were so many people on his ship, but the payoff on the ship's maintenance was enough to keep him satisfied. Beside him, the First kept shooting him odd glances.

"Problem?" he asked. The lights were a bit lower than usual for the night shift, but always on. They both wore their cuts, and he had his hat. Her lips twitched slightly.

"No, no problem," she answered, sing-song and amused.

He didn't pry, but kept an eye on her.

Engineering was the next stop – the Captain rapped sharply on the hatch, and he was answered by a tallish, bald fellow in a yellow jumpsuit. He immediately stood at attention with a salute.

"Captain," he greeted in surprise. "First Mate. How can I help you tonight?"

"Engineering report, if you please," the Captain replied. "Michael, right?"

"Yes, Captain." He let down his hand. "She's doing well. We're running at 84%, as per standing orders. The rig is fully stocked with crystals, although I think three of them will need recharging soon."

"Science has them already?"

"Aye, Captain. Last I checked, they should be ready by morning. Mind, we won't need them for another two days, but just in case."

The Captain smirked. "Good." He glanced into the room. "You're alone on watch?"

"Aye, Captain."

"How's Rhea fitting in?"

"Well, Captain. She reports to work promptly, and does her repairs with zeal. I'm just sorry she doesn't have much else to do all day."

"Better to have nothing to do, than too much, Michael. Don't forget it."

"Aye, Captain."

The First Mate nodded as well, and Michael saluted them before the hatch closed.

What the Captain was not expecting was for the First to grab him by the lapels.

"Fuck it," she growled enticingly. "I'm not waiting."

She stole a kiss from him, and while he wasn't exactly prepared, he wasn't surprised.

He let out a murmur around her lips, and she let go. "Really?" His voice was amused.

"Really really," she answered. She leaned herself against a wall, and dragged him with her.

He gave a light chuckle as he kissed back, slipping his hands under her sapphire coat. One rested on a hip, while the other traveled up her back. She made a soft sound of happy, and he broke the kiss.

"My, ah... apathy. Seems to have developed a bit of... voyeurism in you," he noted, not remembering if those were quite the words. Her fingers left his lapels, one traveling up the back of his neck, another slipping under the cloth.

"Apathy," she echoed, a throaty whisper. "Like you don't care." Her lips were just not touching his as she entwined her fingers into his mane. He let out a small happy too, and delight crept over her smile.

"There is the crew," he warned half-heartedly.

"Fuck the crew," she answered. "Captain, my Captain."

Her hand found an ear and tugged ever so slightly, and she stroked his collarbone with a thumb. He let out a harsh exhale.

"So rough," he almost complained, but it was more amusement than pain.

"But you like it," she teased, scratching at the extremity. His whole body coiled, the fingers under the coat curling into her skin.

He let out a kind of hiss. "You're horrible."

She giggled. "I know."

The hand at her hip reached back and took off the hat, tossing it to the ground. It didn't return to its spot, but instead slipped behind her neck, and his body pressed hers to the wall. This time he initiated, rough and hot, and their bodies melded together. She teased at his collar, finding the neck, wrapping her hand around it and trailing her thumb down. She tickled, and the claw at her back scratched down, down to her hip, finding a belt loop on her ship suit and hooking. While one grabbed at her bottom, the other grabbed at her top, entwining in her hair – the bountiful dreads that held all kinds of booby traps to keep him busy – and his mouth attacking hers. She brought her hands down his neck, sliding her fingers between ship suit and jacket, and spreading.

Any attempts at undress were at the moment blocked by his greedy hands. When at last he removed himself for air, he quickly shrugged off the offending jacket – causing a huge grin on her part – and took off hers as well.

"I caught you on a good night-" she started, but his mouth was on hers again. Soft and slimy, his tongue lapped at her lips, causing a shiver of delight to go down her spine as she opened herself to him. He probed, his mouth busy, while his fingers made quick work of her ship suit. Before long, he was inside, the sapphire blue off of her shoulders, revealing the mud brown that he so desired.

She had only a tank on underneath. Tricksy little human had been plotting.

She was terrified and delighted by the dark chuckle that left his throat as he withdrew and pushed her head to one side with his own, and she was reminded again of 'making love to a velociraptor'. Hot breath growled from between his teeth as he found an ear and nibbled, tugging back.

She let out a delicious sound. His hands were under that tank, trailing up the curve of her back, soft and firm and warm, and pulling, tugging that shirt up. It got lost in her hair, but neither of them gave a shit. He leaned back at the hips, his back curling in an inhuman act of grace that always caught her off guard. His lips and teeth found one, and suckled and nipped at it, causing her to grind her teeth, her fingers finding his shoulders and gripping tight. That wicked tongue of his was lashing at her, teasing, tormenting, and then again with the teeth. His strong, nimble fingers were urging the suit down even more, ambitiously getting under her second layer, too. His touch in that spot on her hips made her gasp, even as she fought back a groan from his torments.

There was a moment's reprieve as he switched to the other. What had once been unnoticed and useless had blossomed into a fruit of boundless joy and ecstasy as he'd watched them bloom, nurturing them and watering them with his own attentions. Her fingers clawed at his neck, up into the nape of his hair, in amongst tendrils and ears and a little jingling from his jewelry. His hands finally lashed away the blue cloth, and in a flash he was kneeling, gently peeling away the wrapper from the only kind of chocolate he would eat. His mouth found her navel, his tongue venturing in, making her shiver, and the cotton cover was at last at her ankles.

He didn't need to press very much to get her to lower and spread her legs. One hand left his head to hold on to the wall, and she was quite definitely biting her lips. He looked up at her, her honeyed eyes barely visible under heavy lids, and then at his prize.

She couldn't help the first gasp. After, she could hold it in, her chest heaving at his attacks, one hand grasping uselessly at the wall against which her backside was holding all of her weight, her legs quivering imperceptibly. His fingers, also, pressed and pawed at her hips and thighs, prodding and teasing, and further destroying her remaining strength.

At last, she let out a soft moan. "Stork..."

Between the sucking lips, lightly grazing teeth, and that tongue that kept going, far past where any man could go, she was very quickly losing it. He tortured her for a long second longer before withdrawing, returning to his full height.

It was like watching a snake arc back before attacking his prey. Those yellow eyes took her in, that mouth wet from her own juices. He nuzzled his nose against hers, growling ever so slightly, but not forcing the kiss, even as her own perfume filled her nose.

For a moment, he caught his breath, his hands once more resting on her hips, bare and naked before him. He traced one up her back, the other trailing up her front, touching that spot that to his people was so sensitive. Her shaking hands fell on him as well, though he was still suited up.

Her fingers trembled on the buttons. A hand reached out to hold them.

"You really want to continue this here?" he asked, forcing himself to speak. His voice was strained, and she knew he was fighting the urge to continue on.

She gave her mind a second to clear out. "Well... Otherwise, we have to wait on Science's report." Her words barely made it out.

He smirked, letting out a small laugh. "You get upstairs. I'll take care of science."

Like the shadows of night when the morning sun rose, he seemed to disappear from her sight. Shaking, she reached back and pulled her tank from the tangles of her hair. She slipped the suit back up and shrugged it on, a small smile on her face as she buttoned. She stuffed the tank into a pocket, and retrieved her jacket. His, too, was there on the floor, and she gathered it.

Were it not for the yellow trim, she might have missed the hat. That made her grin biggest of all, and she had a devilish smile as she picked it up, and put it on her head. She stuck a tongue out of one side of her mouth as she made her way to the nearest ladder, sashaying as she went.

xxxxx

Author's Note: 'Tricksy' is a derivation of 'tricky', stolen from Tolkein's Lord of the Rings series. It's one of Gollum's words.


	2. A Kindness

This scene takes place between Chapters 8 and 9 of Dark Side, and the scene that Chapter 9 opens with happens immediately after this one.

xxxxx

"So, Captain..."

My ears reared back, and I scowled, anticipating the question.

"Who is our guest?"

The breath in my lungs exhaled in a growl. "Piper..." Her name was little more than a murmur. Why she insisted on questioning me was something I still couldn't quite grasp. Ignorance was bliss, obviously. And I tried to bless her with as much ignorance as I could. But still... She still asked.

"Stork, who is it?" she hissed under her breath. I just knew that the damned navigator had his eye on us – little bastard was always spying, though I still couldn't fathom why. Who exactly did he expect to report to? If he left this ship, it wouldn't be in any way good for him. The communications girl made a 'pop!' with her bubble gum, and my right ear twitched. I know for a fact I'd told her not to pop gum on watch. Chew, I could almost tolerate, but the periodic popping was really grinding on my nerves. Add to that the nosy navigator and frustrating First Mate, and I was really getting to the end of my rope.

"It's personal business," I replied smoothly, like I always did. Usually that shut her up, because she said she didn't want to know. Why she chose today to care, I couldn't be sure.

"Stork, what are you doing? Who is this guy? And why are you stealing _my_ greenie to babysit him?"

I closed my eyes to avoid rolling them. _Her_ greenie. Technically, it was _my_ ship. Aerrow's if he was here, but he was not. She had no claim on anyone, and anyone she did, I had claim to as well. Over, even.

I fought the urge to remind her of the fact, but instead countered with logic. "Abigail's working on the project," I said. "If we can keep someone working on it, it'll get done sooner. And besides – it's usually _your_ duty to ferry guests." I eyed her sideways. "So, wouldn't making your inferiour do it make sense?"

She fumed, her eyes hard, but she couldn't argue with it. "I suppose so."

"Then, what's the problem?" She had no qualms with me 'stealing' her greenie to work on the project. Doubtless because it was her whole plot anyway. Why she wanted to risk a mutiny in our absence just so we could go to a friend's baby shower, I still couldn't get. Yes, having offspring was well and joyous, but unless they're close family, it's just a social obligation. And social obligations weren't quite important enough to warrant that risk, in my opinion. She wasn't even a close friend. They were ex-crew, nothing more. At least to me.

Piper sighed. She seemed like she wanted to say something else, but couldn't figure out how to word her sentiments.

"Navigation?" I drawled, raising my voice back to a level where the whole room could here me.

"On course, Captain," he growled.

I allowed myself a small smirk. Oh, he hated me. He really, truly hated me. In a way, it was invigorating, getting that effect from people. It was empowering. I looked over at my First Mate, who was still pouting.

"Are you going to pout all day?"

"I just want to know who it is," she growled back.

That was loud enough that even communications looked up at us. I looked back at her, and she popped her gum, right there in my face.

That does it.

"Alright, that's it," I growled, and I tossed the hat from my head. I turned back to the crew, and I think communications swallowed her gum.

"Get off my bridge _right now_," I ordered, jabbing a long, green finger at her.

She didn't even say, 'Yes, Captain' as she ran out of my sight.

"And _you_..." I said, turning on Scott.

"Captain," Piper warned.

"I'll deal with you in a second!" I snapped back, spinning to jab a finger at her, too. I rounded on navigation. "Get out!" I thrust an arm toward the door, and he did as I ordered. I was right behind him, and shut and locked the hatch.

"Stork," Piper started – she had no idea I was this wound up. She should have figured, would have noticed if she'd paid attention to anyone but herself.

"I'm done!" I cut over her.

I shrugged my coat off, and tossed it at my pilot's seat, and rounded on her. She clutched her jacket fearfully, and regarded me with concern.

"How many times have I kazandai _asked_ you," I snarled, pulling out my chain. "How many times?"

"Look, I'm sorry!" she immediately shouted, backing away from me.

"I've asked you! Many times! If you don't like how I run my ship, you can leave, I've told you! And I've asked you if you wanted to stay." I wrapped the chain around my hands, covering my knuckles in the hardened metal. "And every time I ask you, what do you say?"

"I say..." She eyed the chain with terror. "I say I'll stay. For the Storm Hawks, Stork – because they need us."

"You say that!" I countered, jabbing a finger at her, tangled as it is in my bindings. "You say you'll stay! And I let you stay. I even give you a title of honour. You are second in command here! You are free to do as you please, but I only ask that you...!" And I let out a roar, thrashing my arms in the opposite direction, the chains throwing me off balance enough that my body rushes forward. I swing again, once more at nothing, and my body moves forward.

"I'm trying! I'm really trying!" I profess to no one. I point my hands to the sky. "You can't deny it! I'm trying!" I hunch over, pulling at my bindings, knowing they'll hold firm. Knowing that Bogaton steel is still stronger than me. Knowing that I can't break them. I can't break them, and then something else.

Or someone else.

I lunge and pull and thrash, but the metal just pulls me with it. It's heavy, and strong, and has always been my kryptonite. Not just from what it's made from, but what it stands for. I tie my hands to remind myself how tied my hands really are. I'm never free – there's always something else, some other obstacle. Some other issue that will come along and screw with my life, and fuck things up. No matter what I do, what I try, it never gets better – it's only a temporary fix before Doom comes up with something else to try me again.

I thrash and lunge, and eventually I'm standing in the middle of the bridge, panting. Just slightly. Just enough. I can feel the moisture on my skin, all over my body. I can feel it under my ship suit, gathering in various spots. I can feel the energy spiking throughout my body, fuzzing my head, and clearing my thoughts. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes. I think of the wind, and the sky. The clouds and freedom. I think of flying, and let the peace of its simplicity soothe my mind.

I think then of flight school. How a pilot can have loyalties to no one.

"I've tried, Piper..." I say. I know she's hiding in the corner. I can hear her ragged breaths, smell her terror poisoning the air. "I've really tried. But... the crew has to stay expendable."

I lower my head. She doesn't answer from behind me.

"I... I want to keep you here. To keep you safe. It's hard, with the way this world is. So much bigger, and full of so much more evil than Atmos." I shake my head. "You didn't have that life. You are young... So young. So fortunate, to have found friends. To have found Neverlandia."

I crumple to the floor, then. Neverlandia. A dreamland for youngsters. With a giant tree, and green grass, and nothing but imagination keeping you from danger. The only Cyclonians were children. I truly envied them.

"I didn't have that, Piper. I didn't. I had... Raptors. And fire. And war. Cyclonia... is practically the mother of Merbia. Evil stepmother, perhaps, but it's what I grew up with."

Visions of my homeland terrorised my mind. I tried my best to shake them away.

"This... this that you see as evil." I looked up, again. I had no idea at what, or even who, but I always found the sky to give me comfort. The winds had a way of leading me. "This is a kindness. Much like your... your Christmas. Your parents lie to you, to give you the gift of peace, and joy. You don't see the heartache and toil behind such things. You see only gifts, and lovingkindness. That is what I'm trying to give you. A world where... You don't have to see the Dark Side of life..."

I bowed my head. It was not for nothing that the _Condor_ had a reputation for piracy. It was a reputation I'd cultivated carefully, choosing spoils and crew enough to keep it on, without letting Piper get wise. She had too good a heart. She was still so... pure.

I wasn't. I was so far from pure... I could only be 'well-meaning'. My skin healed over the wounds, but there were so many scars etched into my body... Some of them from battle. Surprisingly few. A great deal of them were from Bogaton whips... And not all of those from Raptors.

I sighed. "This is a kindness. Please... Don't question me." I stood, and once more pulled at the chains. I could see where the ends where, where I could untie them. I could never best these chains from brute strength. They were designed with my kind in mind. I could only best them with cleverness, and smarter engineering. Likewise, while I could never pull these chains apart, I could always untie them. It's a sign of self-control, knowing that I can untie them, but choose not to. Not until my rage is satisfied.

In the corner, Piper lets out a harsh breath.

"I'm..." She swallows. "I'm sorry. I won't question you again. It's... it's not my place."

She stepped away from that corner. I turn my head to see her, and her head is down, but she lifts it just enough for me to see her eyes. They're wet, threatening with not-quite-yet shed tears. I close my eyes, looking away. I know this pains her to see... But I have to. I have to show her this side of me. It, too, is a kindness. If she saw me at my truest, my honest brutality... I swallow the lump in my throat. She'd think of me as a monster. And though a monster I am, I won't let her see.

I stand high. And I grit my teeth. "Your greenie needs to know this." I hear a sharp intake of breath, but she doesn't answer. I begin to unravel my chains, and unlock the hatch, before returning to the center of the room.

"Watch for my guest," I order her, and she does so without question.

I clear my throat. It is a kindness, even if she doesn't know it. I take a deep breath, focusing only on the old chains, thinking of how I wore them as a medal, once upon a time. How now they keep me contained. Keep me safe. And those around me safe as well.

xxxxx

Author's note: The title of the piece is actually from a recent Doctor Who two-part episode called "Space"/"Time". Teasers about the Captain's dark past.


	3. The Captain's Hand

Takes place the afternoon after Chapter 16. I cut it here because it's going to go on to some more pointless smut, and that way if you so wish you can get the plot without enduring the smut, and vice versa.

xxxxx

"So... what web is the black witch spinning today, I wonder?"

I sighed as the Captain dropped his handsome, leathered self into the chair opposite mine. A haphazard leg draped over the arm, despite the chair's original design.

"I really shouldn't have told you that," I told myself, but there was a smile on my face. I looked up at him, and he at me.

"Your greenie is a clever one," he commented, raising a finger. "I will certainly give him that." He readjusted his hat so that it covered the top half of his face, but the wicked grin remained. "I suppose it's because I've been a lone Merb for so long, but I'd forgotten the clever jests other species come up for us..."

I looked down to my papers. "Homesick for Merbia?"

"Nah..." He shrugged purposefully. "I'd rather be called a toad than die of bog fever. Or worse." It was the 'or worse' bit that always saddened me. He pushed the hat up again. "You? Do you still long for... whatever Terra it is you come from?"

I glared up at him. "You mean, if I could remember where it is?" I shook my head. "No... That's long ago, now. No point in going back after all this time."

He made a noncommittal noise, and returned the hat to its precarious perch. He entwined his fingers together, and laid them over his chest. I imagine he had some intention of getting a nap here.

"So... what was this raid _really_ about?" I asked tentatively.

Ship that small had no hope to defend itself against us. And one wondered why the ship had a reputation for piracy. On the outside, we looked like an absolute terror. And he'd gone and done it in the middle of the night, too...

I hated when people didn't follow my plans.

And then the guest. I hated not knowing what was going on. Who he was bringing on the ship, for whatever dark deeds he had planned. Normally, he'd tell me after, but... I always had the feeling he was leaving something out.

The Captain sighed. "Come on, Piper. You're a clever girl. Haven't you figured that one out yet?"

I glared at him. He acted like it was so easy to read his mind. Well, it wasn't! Particularly not when he was playing games and acting a fool all the time. If I feared he were a darker man, I wouldn't trust him. But I couldn't imagine Stork doing anything cruel to anyone. For anything. So I knew it couldn't be too bad, but...

He always had a winning hand in this poker game. He could bend the rules to fit his liking, and I know for damned sure he had a few aces up his sleeves. There was no way I could win, no matter what I tried.

"No, I haven't," I answered, trying to keep my voice steady. "Please. Enlighten me."

The hat rose slightly, but only so I could see a sliver of eyes peering at me from the darkness. He was enjoying this – having the upper hand. He had his ways of doing things that made sense in the long game, but the way he kept me in the dark pissed me off. I think he did it for suspense. I think he enjoyed torturing me, and only told me enough of what I wanted to hear to keep me from asking the right questions.

Mind, I was too afraid to ask the right questions, I had learned over the years. Because I was afraid to hear what the answers might be.

"Think about it, Piper," he said, patiently. "Ship that small. Crew of eight. They're doing something other than flying the ship."

"We have a crew of twenty or so when fully stocked," I retorted.

He moved in a silent laugh. I could hear it in his voice. "We're also a carrier. With an OCD First Mate."

I glared at him. "Says the man who once swore on bat repellent."

He was quick to defend himself, raising a finger in gesticulation. "Hey, man! Volcabats are real! You know that as well as I do!"

"And... Strato-elves?"

"Entirely plausible. We don't live up there, we can't know for sure." He lifted his hat to reveal his eyes, one of which twitched. "And you're mocking me again."

I smiled at him, tilting my head to the side. "The appropriate term is 'teasing'. Dear."

"Bah." I tried not to notice so much how his tongue slipped out of his mouth with the word, and then back in, wetting his lips. He returned to his previous pose, and I was decidedly distracted from my work.

"So... too much crew," I said, getting back to it. I shrugged. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"What do we have crew for?" he asked. It was didactic, but it helped.

"Navigation, communications, engineering, science, cargo, and a few extras," I answered, playing along.

"Steward."

I shrugged. "Yeah, steward."

"Wrong." He held up a finger. "Steward."

Steward... Stewards made food. I grimaced. "No cooks?"

He chuckled darkly. "We could have killed the cook for all we know. Try again."

Hmm... Steward. Cooks. Food... Feeding? Lunch.

My eyes widened. "Feeding the crew."

He nodded, returning his finger. "Continue."

"They'd have to... feed everyone. So... that's a lot of mouths to feed." I grimaced. "Only way we can afford to feed everyone on board is because of the black market. Cutting down on crew is the first thing to do when money is tight..." Like it was now. The Captain preferred a skeleton crew for a number of reasons, but that was one of the benefits of the decision.

"Ship that tiny. How could you feed eight crew and be profitable? Much less eight passengers. And if they're a passenger ship, why were they hauling so much cargo? It's too much for one ship. All that weight slows you down, not good for a quick voyage and happy passenger. So what are they up to that they're not saying?"

I marveled. How did he get all that?

Now that I chewed on it, he was right. It didn't add up. I looked at him. He really did know all the answers. I just had to word my question carefully.

"What _is_ it they're not saying?"

He smirked. "You have to ask the right questions."

I glowered. That again. "Am I asking you, or them?"

I saw him beam under the hat. He gave me a thumbs-up. "Now, that's the right question."

He sat up, then, straightening his hat, smiling at me. He cocked his head to the side. "What can you tell me about the crew of people down in the hold just now?"

"Well..." I thought of the last two crewmen – who had attempted to jump the Captain if Doyle's testimony was right. And that close to my office – and the honesty crystals I housed here – that much I could trust. "Of the two crew left, one seemed rather panicky, and hadn't been aboard very long. He's a greenie, and a scared one at that. The other didn't have much to say. He did his job and kept his nose clean, but he wasn't aware of too much, except taking care of the passengers."

He nodded. I continued.

"The passengers... all seemed fine. I mean, scared that their ship had been attacked, boarded by pirates, and then locked in the galley, surrounded by armed mechanics." I let my lips curl. "Can't blame them for that."

"Not really," the Captain responded, cheery. "Continue."

"Most of them were just... traveling. A lot of them... seeking jobs, actually."

The Captain leaned back in his chair, smug. Like... that answered the question.

I sighed. "What am I missing?"

He eyed the crystals on my shelf. I don't know how he managed to deflect my direct questions, but he was very good at it. "It has... something to do with the jobs."

I pondered. "They're all... unemployed?"

He held up a finger, narrowing his eyes. I was close.

"They're... jobless. Broke!" I added with a jubilant finger.

He gave me a wink, making a 'ch!' sound as he shot me a gun. "Bingo."

"So... broke, jobless. They sign on a small freighter ship for cheap passage." I wrinkled my nose. "But they got over half a dozen people on board that ship? Where the hell were they going?"

The Captain was pleased, and scratched himself on the neck. "Those are exactly the right questions, Pipe. Exactly the right questions."

I could see it now. Ragtag crew, some of them clueless greenies, which were likely cycled out like cannon fodder. Desperate souls approached them for a chance at a new life, and they took advantage.

"They took advantage," I whispered. I looked up at the Captain. "It's a con."

The Captain grimaced. But shrugged. "In a manner of speaking, yeah. It's a con."

I narrowed my eyes. "Then I'm glad we got the sons of bitches." I closed my book vehemently. "We'll get those people somewhere else, where they can start the new lives they wanted."

The Captain shrugged, pulling his leg up to prop over the side of the chair again. "Stockerd's in another couple days."

"Yeah..." I grinned. "That's perfect! Stockerd's a good town for that kind of thing." And then I blinked. And glared. "You bastard! You knew about this the whole time, didn't you?"

"Heheheh..." The way he smiled... I couldn't stay mad at him. "Oh, boy... I tell you, Piper. It's a damned good thing you love me."

"I wonder why, sometimes," I growled back. But that smile was still tugging at my lips.

xxxxx

Ehh... She's half right. It's a con, sure, but that doesn't explain where they get the money. You can't make enough scamming poor folk to pull that con off, so there's gotta be more to it. The fact of the matter is, they're not just con artists, they're slave traders. They feed off the desperate, promise them a cheap ride, and then sell them on the black market for slave labour. No, Stork's not telling her everything. Because if she's satisfied with catching con artists, that's all he'll tell her. It's better that she doesn't know.

And as for the crystals, it's like veritaserum – it's not so much trying to lie as deflecting the question.


End file.
